Seven Pounds
by CheyRose
Summary: Series AU. After killing six strangers and his fiancee, Lilly Kane, in a car accident, Logan Echolls sets out to redeem himself by paying a "pound of flesh" for each person he killed. He never expected to fall in love along the way. Based on the film.
1. Chapter 1

Seven Pounds

A Veronica Mars AU Fic.

Chapter One.

Based on the screenplay "Seven Pounds", written by Grant Nieporte.

–

"911 emergency."

"I need an ambulance."

"I have you at 9212 West 3rd Street in Neptune."

"It's room number two."

"What's the emergency?"

"There's been a suicide."

"Who's the victim?"

"...I am."

–

_In seven days, God created the world._

The waves lapped over above him delicately, and Logan watched them swirl above his head as he floated for a moment. He spent a lot of time like this, suspended in the ocean, staring at the mighty natural force as it crashed and swirled above him.

_And in seven seconds, I shattered mine._

Logan dragged himself out of the water after a while and climbed the steps up the slope to his house, stared at the beautiful garden as he grabbed his towel from a chair to wipe off. His senses overwhelmed with the mixed scent of the salt water and the gardenias. If he didn't know any better he'd almost swear she was standing there with him.

Going inside he picked up the stack of papers on his coffee table and stared at them, the little note tacked onto it.

"Logan,

These are the people in region 5 who match your criteria. You don't know me."

–

"Okay, sir, I can have some fillets sent to you overnight. . ."

"No, no thank you. What is your name again? Max?"

"Uh, yes sir," Max' fingers wobbled unsteadily on the keyboard and he swallowed. "Uh, yes sir. I need your name so I can call up your account. . ."

"Listen Max here's my idea, I'm thinkin' I should just mail you back the meat so you can see what kind of dog food you're peddling. . ."

"That won't be necessary sir," Max couldn't help but laugh a little at the notion but not loudly enough to cause any sort of commotion. "Uh, if I could just get your last name, we can start there."

"Stone. And don't even get me started on the pork, have you tried the pork, Max?"

"Uh, no, sir, I'm not much of a meat eater myself."

"So you don't eat pork at all?"

"No sir."

"Are you Jewish? Is that why you don't eat pork?"

"Uh, can we just, can I have your first name?"

"Charlie."

Max's hands flew across his special keyboard and then he waited as the computer searched, an electronic voice alerted him. "No order for Charlie Stone."

"Sir I don't have an order for a Charlie Stone...."

"Woah woah woah, Max, what was that voice?"

"What voice?"

"Are you BLIND, Max?"

"Excuse me?" There wasn't much that could make that conversation more awkward, now that he had been called out as both blind and Jewish. And Max felt a cold chill travel up his spine as he sat wanting to do nothing more than hang up the phone.

The test was necessary, though and after he poked and prodded as much as he could, calling him everything he could think of and saying every awful thing that came to mind, Logan hung up nauseated, clasping a hand over his mouth as he held back the urge to retch at his own behavior. The test was necessary, and after calming stuttering on the line, Max had hung up without ever returning his malevolence.

And so, he had passed.

Logan sat on a chair and ran his hands through greasy, unkempt hair, looked up at his list and starred Max's name. Whispered to himself once. "Joanna Rice, Margarita Rice, Alex Sanchez, Rebecca Foster, Jameson Randall, Jackson Spencer, Lilly Kane."

He kicked at the coffee table as his throat tightened with emotion. Stood and paced the living room, furious at himself all over again, as he so often was. He shouted the seven names and turned to find himself face to face with the newspaper clipping. Seven killed in deadly crash. One survivor. Logan Echolls. Aaron and Lynn Echolls. Lilly Kane, Kane Software, Newly Engaged.

_In seven seconds, I shattered mine._

–

Logan adjusted the visitor tag on his thousand dollar suit as he walked down the hall of the nursing home. Leaned over a desk with a handsome smile to ask a nurse where he could find Vinnie Van Lowe. He was directed to a patient's room, and so he walked in to find him trying to coax an older lady to speak. She reached for a pen and paper but he berated her for not speaking verbally and said he'd come back tomorrow, having seen Logan waiting in the doorway.

He walked over with a shit-shined grin. "Hi, I didn't expect you. . .I thought I was supposed to come to your office?"

"You were, but I was auditing nearby and thought I'd save you the trip."

Logan followed him into his office and sat down, drew up the man's fine. An ex-PI who had bought the nursing home when his mother had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's several years ago. He didn't have a single medical degree, he just had money. But he was about $200,000 behind on his taxes due to medical issues, bone cancer which required a marrow transplant. A painful fucking procedure.

"Is that your new Beemer out front?" Logan asked, raising a brow.

"Ah," Vinnie dropped his gaze and laughed nervously. "You know, uh, I'm trying, I really am. I've been working to save up, but you know, that last transplant, it didn't go through. . ."

"I'm aware of your medical history, Mr. Van Lowe."

The older man swallowed nervously. "I just. . .need the extension until January, I get a bonus then, I can pay you guys back and we'll all hopefully be on our merry ways. I just don't. . know how long I got, ya know? Gotta live in the moment."

"Well I tell you what, Mr. Van Lowe, I'll consider it and let you know what my decision is soon." They shook hands, Logan never liked to just rely on the person he was speaking to. Instead he walked to the patient room he had previously been in and smiled at the old lady in the bed.

He emerged ten minutes later with her scooped up in his arms, and set her in a wheel chair. Started to wheel her away when Vinnie and a nurse caught up to him and Logan glared at them. "Where is the washroom?"

"Just down here," Vinnie motioned down a hall and Logan wheeled her all the way to the door and told the nurse. "Give her a bath right now."

"Thank you!" The old lady cried with tears in her eyes and Logan swallowed a wave of nausea, shoved Van Lowe up against a wall. "I almost believe you, you son of a bitch. You're not getting your extension. I'm going to be dropping by periodically to make sure you're treating these people with some goddamn respect!"

He left him there, standing up against the wall with shock smeared all over his wrinkled face and Logan didn't look at him, because in that moment he thought of the last days with Aaron home. And that made him think of his last days with Lilly.

"_Now if you'll all excuse me I have a very hungry woman waiting for me at home."_

"_You were supposed to be here a while ago! Don't I'm angry at you!"_

_She could never stay angry when he picked her up and spun her like he did that night. He owed her dinner. He. . ._

Leapt as the phone rang, waking him from his sleep on the couch. Looked at the ID, it was Charlie. He wasn't in the mood. Pulled the laptop over to study up on the next person, female, twenty six years old. Congestive heart failure. Looked at the photo. Blonde, petite. Veronica Mars. What a name. He printed out her paperwork as he stood to go get his suit together.

She lived in an apartment complex on a modest little street, far from the part of town he lived in. Logan studied the entranceway before he slipped into the gate and walked toward Veronica's door. A lady outside next door watched him to see if he was going there, older, a little bit plump. Her hands busily working a pot of soil.

"Can I help you?"

"I hope so, I'm looking for Veronica Mars?"

"She had to go get more tests done." She told him softly, with a friendly smile. A large boxer stuck his head out of her door and looked at Logan before disappearing again.

"Thank you, try some banana peel in the dirt."

"Really?"

"I swear by it!" He flashed his usual grin, tilted his head as he looked around the place. "Uh, you know, do you have any idea of where I might find Miss Mars?"


	2. Chapter 2

Seven Pounds

Part Two

–

Nalon Country Club golf course stretched across the Californian landscape about as far as the eye could see, to Logan. And as he trudged across the grass he remembered many a day with the boys kicking their ass here. That memory was as distant and frigid as the ocean, a barely there strip of blue past all of the green and brown.

Richard Casablancas Jr came twice a week, or more, depending on how well he was doing and how much he wanted to show off and today, seeing Logan come across the grass was both terrifying and wonderful for him. He knew what he wanted to talk about. And he looked like he belonged there at the same time. Dick's girlfriend, Jackie Cook was on the course with him and she was the first to address Logan.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Jackie." He gave her a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm good, how are you!?"

"I'm all right." He turned to Dick, who was watching with a worried expression, but he approached when his friend did.

"What're you doing here?" Dick asked as he patted his back and they looked at one another briefly.

"Well I wanted to check in with you, you said you'd call on the 15th and it's the 18th."

"The doc hadn't called yet." Dick informed him, and they both looked over at Jackie. "Babe, can we have a sec?"

She nodded and walked toward the cart. "You still should have called me. We're still friends, right?"

"Dude, you know we are I just. .I dunno, been doing some thinking or, soul searching, whatever." Both stopped walking when Logan stopped and fixed a hard look on his best friend, glanced to make sure Jackie wasn't close by.

"Don't do that. Don't. We have a plan. Stick to the plan. Do what you promised me."

"I will."

–

"_So I've learned three steps to getting them to sign these contracts, firstly, tell them what you're going to tell them. Step two, you tell them. Step three, you tell them what you told them. So we're going to close with me reminding you, our figures are looking better now than they have in the past sixty years and if they want to pass on that then, frankly, they deserve to write for a Harlequin publisher where they'll be most prominently featured in the dirty book aisle at the grocery store."_

_Logan was interrupted by the beeping Blackberry in front of him, and so he picked it up to look at the newest message on the screen. _

"_Where r u? Dinner???"_

"_Now if you'll excuse me," He stood to swing on his suit jacket. "I have a very lovely, very hungry woman at home waiting for me."_

_The drive home was quick, painless and when he walked in the doors he immediately began to hunt her down. "Lilly? Babe someone at work told me it was daylight savings, and. . ." He ducked in through the patio doors, wide open, where Lilly stood looking out over the ocean with a wine glass in one hand and her hip in the other._

"_You were supposed to be here a while ago. This happens all the time and it's always worked." Logan ducked in to try to kiss her and she turned around to try and walk into the house. "No I'm angry with you! And I'm going to be angry with you all. . .AH!" She squealed as he picked her up and began spinning in circles with her in his arms._

"_What are you doing!?"_

"_Yeah? Let's see how much longer you'll be angry with me!"_

Logan woke with a start once again to the sound of his phone ringing and he sighed tiredly, reached to grab it and flip it open, pulled it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey it's me, it's your brother." Yes, Logan already knew. And he sighed. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the beach house." Logan responded, his voice groggy and raspy from the dream he had just been having.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course."

"Listen, why'd you disconnect the landline?"

Logan sighed as he stretched, sat up partially. "The phone broke and I didn't need it anymore." He replied with a shrug, knowing Charlie didn't need to see it to hear it in his voice.

"Did I do something?"

"No," Logan sat up fully, brow furrowed and his voice became low. "Not unless you started smokin' again."

"I've put on twenty pounds," Charlie responded, his voice quivering a little with pride, and yet Logan could still hear how concerned he was. "I'm in the best shape of my life. Are you eating? Are you taking care of yourself? Cuz. .you sound terrible and if you need. . ."

"I'm fine but I've gotta run. Give Melanie and the kids a hug and kiss from okay? I'll talk to you later." Logan immediately threw them off the topic of himself and moved to stand up, prepared to start getting ready to get on the road.

"Woah hold on, I, look, I know it's been a while but. . .when you were staying here you didn't accidentally take something that wasn't yours, did you?"

"I remember giving you something," Logan nearly spat back but kept it calm, a prodding reminder. "Do you remember that?" The transplant, kept Charlie from dying from lung cancer and yet another part of himself from crashing down the tubes.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Just remember I love you." Logan said softly, before clasping the cell phone shut in his hand, and moving to get ready.

–

The kid was cute. Sweet, only about seven or eight. Nine tops. He was busily coloring a picture at the table he and his mother were sitting at. And Logan watched, trying to not look creepy, sifting through papers on his own table in the hospital cafeteria. The kid was a no brainer, along with the cuteness, so young and innocent and Logan hoped his gift to him would teach him something later on in life, a lesson he had never learned as a spoiled little rich kid. And now. Now it had been too late for him. But hopefully not this cute kid.

His mother was thin, and smiled lovingly, from his research, Logan knew she was a single mother, she worked three jobs to support him and pay as much of the medical costs that having a child with Leukemia piled up as she could. And she was young for someone with an eight year old, not much older than him, dark hair and pretty brown eyes. She must have had him young and had probably always been his only parent, which just made Logan like her more.

He was suddenly aware of the person who had come to stand near him and jumped when she spoke. "Um, were you staring at me, or that kid over there?" She asked, and he knew her face immediately. Veronica Mars. His age. Congestive heart failure. Her father had once been sheriff and she lived alone with her pitbull Backup, next to the kind lady with the enthusiasm for potted plants, since she had no room for a garden.

"Uh, actually I was just sitting here. Am I doing it wrong?"

"I think I uh, saw you in the elevator the other day?" She asked nervously.

He coughed nervously. "Uh, Veronica Mars, right? I'm Charlie Stone and um," He pulled the ID from his pocket, Charlie's badge and info card with his picture printed over it. "I'm from the IRS, I've come to the hospital today because you're being audited."

"Oh, crap." He watched the way her pretty face fell immediately. She was blonde, petite, and had big blue eyes with striking features. But probably more noticeable than that was the way she struggled to take a deep breath, and the dark circles completely surrounding her eyes. She took a seat at his table at the opposite end.

"I uh, see here that you owe the government, $56, 240.19" He told her, reading the figure off of the paper before looking up at her with a smile, almost as if he were pleased with himself for it.

"I, I know." She said softly, her hands shaking a little bit.

The smile didn't fade. "And now you get me. I've been looking over the income statements from the last three years, 2005, 2006 . . ."

"Uh, were you in my room the other night???" She reached across the table when she spoke to place her hand on his arm, caught his attention and could look into his eyes, to see if maybe he was lying when he answered.

Busted. Logan swallowed hard, shuffling the papers but he spoke firmly without waver to his voice. "No, ma'am. I was _not _in your room last night. That's not exactly IRS protocol." He added a slight nervous laugh but largely, he brushed it off. "Now I was looking at your information from 2007 and there seems to be quite a disparity between what you claimed to have made and. . ."

"Mr. Stone. . I've _just_ been discharged and I just. . .can this wait? This can wait, right? I mean, you'll still need to come talk to me it's just. . .today is really not a good time. Unless you're going to haul me off to some IRS jail" She looked so tired and frail, Logan wanted to grab her for a hug.

"Of course. Sure, no problem." He handed her his card as he packed up. "So I'll be in touch."

He left her there at the hospital with thoughts of Lilly dancing in his head and drove to a motel about five blocks from where she lived. Passing her place with a brief thought of the dark circles around her eyes, and then he walked up to the place to ring the bell at the window.

A man came out, Mexican, tough looking and he nodded to him. "Can I help you?"

"I need a room."

"How many hours?" Logan read a sign behind him on the wall before he answered. **Weevil love you long time.**

"Two weeks."


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

–

"Hi, you've reached Veronica, I can't take your call right now, please leave a message!"

"Hi, Miss Mars, I was calling about um, hiring you. . ."

Veronica had just been coming through the door, and was already out of breath, so running to the phone before the machine had answered would have been an impossible task and so, rather, Veronica walked to it and picked it up partway through the message, taking slow, deep breaths to try and catch her breath while she set her bag down. "Hello, hi, this is Veronica. Yes I do spousal cases, unfortunately I'm not able to take any on right now, there's a detective nearby I can give you the name of. . ."

She's begun to dig in her bag and the power went out, taking her phone as well as she looked at it in disbelief. "Hello?" Dead. Dammit. Suddenly, Veronica was aware of the lack of presence of her usually happy to see her dog and so she looked around the kitchen and other rooms briefly as she called out for him. "Backup? Hey Backup, where are you?"

Her searched led her out into the yard, which was picket-fenced in, and as she stepped out a familiar voice called to her, "Out here, Miss Mars!" Veronica walked around the corner of the house to find Charlie Stone standing out there with Backup, the dog's face buried in a sheet of paper. Charlie was dressed in another snazzy business suit, nothing fancy, fun on the eyes, with a shit-eating grin that any debt-collector would have on smeared all over his handsome face.

"Hello, Miss Mars!"

"What are you doing here?" She asked as she advanced. Feeling almost plain in comparison in a salmon colored blouse and a medium colored pair of bootcut jeans. Look rounded off by sneakers and a ponytail.

"Came to see you."

"Don't you people ever call ahead?"

"_You_ people tend to hide from us." And it was as he was saying that as she got nearer that Veronica realized the paper Backup was licking was from a meat company and she rushed over. "Is this meat? No! No meat!" She grabbed the paper away and picked Backup's jaws open to flick specks of what was left off of his jowls. Checking his mouth for more of it.

"Uh," Charlie started. "He seemed to really be enjoying it."

"He eats steamed broccoli and tofu!" Veronica retorted.

"Why?"

"He's a vegetarian."

"He's. . .a vegetarian?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that sucks." She shot him a dark look and so, he dropped the whole thing, reaching to pick up his briefcase. "Uh, do you have a moment? Can we talk?"

"No, uh, actually, I have to take Duke for a walk." She said, crossing her arms, the dog's leash dangling from one, grabbed on the way out the door.

"No problem," He said softly, I'll go with you." That grin on his face, the kind eyes and it almost seemed like this guy really wanted her to be debt free. The idea made Veronica nearly snort. Instead she stared up into his face with a decidedly determined expression, arms still crossed, him still smiling. "If you don't mind."

The next thing she knew, Backup was literally dragging her down the sidewalk as this guy walked next to them with his folder scattered across his arms. "No, no, Backup, slow _down_." She was easily out breath three minutes ago, trying to peer over at the papers.

"So I was looking at the returns from 2005, 2006 and 2007." He looked at her with concern when she wheezed, tugging Backup to slow down.

"I'm listening."

"Are you okay? Would you like for me to take him for you?" Veronica declined with a deep breath, declared that she had him and Charlie didn't even pause to take the leash, sticking the folder under his arm. "Let me get him. You all right?"

She took his brief case in return and laughed out loud when Backup tugged him so hard he almost lost his footing. "Yes."

"Heel, heel, heel!" Charlie looked sheepishly over at her. "Maybe we shouldn't feed him meat." Tried to talk to her about the papers in the folder in front of him again and another tug almost sent the papers flying, Charlie sighed. "Maybe we should do this later." He had to smile at the big grin on her face, glad she had broken from her fierce expression before.

A short while later they were in her kitchen, Charlie finally had his papers neatly laid out in front of him and he watched as Veronica took a casserole dish from the freezer, full of tupperware and similar dishes. He smiled gently at her. "So, you cook it all ahead of time, I see."

Veronica shook her head with a smile. "No, actually, I can't remember the last time I cooked. This is my half-sister's way of looking out for me from afar." She moved to put the dish in the pre-heated oven and then reached into a cupboard for some coffee mugs. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Yes," He told her softly. "One brother. He's a, he's a good egg."

"Yeah, I just have the one sister too."

He nodded with a smile and didn't waste time to get on with the business. "Are you receiving any income from any source that the government is currently unaware of?"

"Uh, well, let's see, lately I've been taking to diving in local wishing wells, so, I mean but those are just the occasional dimes here and there. A quarter once in a while." They both smiled and Veronica sighed as she poured hot water in both for tea. Handed him a tea bag and put one in her own mug. "Actually I had to refinance this place to pay my past-due medical bills."

"I've been informed that you suffer from," He made sure he was reading it off of the paper. "Congenital heart failure."

"Yes," She dropped her gaze a moment but kept her posture strong before looking at him again. "Did you gather that while stalking me at the hospital?"

"Ah, no, I. . ." He shook his head, dropped that train of thought and kept reading off of the paper. "You're currently status two, which means you're sick enough to be on a national UNOS waiting list but not sick enough to be admitted into the hospital and placed on status one." Veronica would nod her head to agree with and confirm what he was saying. "So basically if your heart starts to fail quickly and no donor can be located. . .you're screwed."

Veronica was visibly less comfortable with the topic by then, one hand under her chin, partially rubbing a spot on her neck. "Is it true that you said . . ."He flipped the page and scanned briefly. "That you do not believe that you deserve a heart because your life is unremarkable in every way?"

Veronica's brow had furrowed and she stared at him in both shock and frustration, unable to answer him, for loss of words and surprised to see that statement had ended up on paper somewhere. Charlie watched her and finally realized he had struck a bad nerve. His own brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that." He paused a moment in thought and repeated. "I'm sorry."

"Do you have to take any type of sensitivity training to join the IRS, Mr. Stone?"

"No uh, not really."

"Yeah." The rubbed her shoulder anxiously, her eyes dropping to the table again.

"So you don't," He leaned forward a bit to study her. "Consider yourself to be a good person?"

Veronica was so flustered the words barely came out in order. "How would you answer that question if someone asked you?"

He smiled at that. "Unremarkable would be an upgrade for me, I assure you." She stared at him, flabberghasted from the entire conversation, and in return, the shit-eating grin made another appearance on his face. "I'm going to freeze your accounts as noncollectable, until further notice. That should buy you a few months penalty free." He stood as he marked some things on her papers and gathered them into his briefcase, passed over a business card. "This is my card, you call me if anyone from the IRS tries to contact you. Okay?"

"Okay, thank you."

"Thank you." He made sure he had everything together and started toward the door, and Veronica gave the card a couple of turns in her slender hand before she looked over at him. "Mr. Stone?" She stood fro the table when he paused at the door. Walked to him. "Why do I get the feeling that you're doing me a really big favor here?"

And then it was Logan's answer that she was looking or, not his brother's and so he carefully chose his words in his head before he attempted to answer her. "Because. . I have the feeling that. . .you really deserve it." He said.

Veronica didn't know how to reply, thought it over before deciding to ultimately not respond to that, rather smiled at him. "You um, off to pollute someone else's dog now?"

He laughed. "Ah, I'm just going home."

"Where's that?" There was a moment of awkward silence between them which led to them both smiling nervously, Veronica briefly dropped her gaze.

"Take care, Veronica."

"You too." They nodded to one another before he turned, the smiles both faded and Charlie left her house. Veronica watched the door closed and watched his shadow disappear in it's window before leaning against a chair for support as she watched him walk to his car through the living room window. He slid his case in first, then sat in the driver seat before pausing to think about her and her sad eyes and bright smile.

Then he drove off as Veronica watched, with similar thoughts running through her head.

–

That evening, Logan stood on the back patio watching the waves dance back and forth in the sunset, hands shoved in the pockets of some random pair of expensive jeans, a grey/blue cashmere sweater keeping him warm from the night's fall chill as he stared and the curtains of the sliding door danced behind him, occasionally whipping forward far enough to block his view, and when they floated back he could see Lilly suddenly down on the shore in a short summery dress that had cost a fortune, spinning and dancing in the waves.

Her hair blew around her shoulders in bright blond strands and her smile was as big and breathless as the ocean behind her, she lifted a creamy hand in the air and waved to him, and he found himself waving his hand in response, felt the curtains brush it when they whipped up and took the sight away from him all over again.

Tears burned Logan's eyes as he watched, the emptiness there in the sand that had just momentarily been full of life and love and the beauty that he ached to see and smell and touch again. He was so tired of living without her in such a sentimental way and yet, at the same time, he couldn't bear the thought of being nearer to her without doing right by her, finally, in their deaths, as he had never really done in their life.

A tear dropped down the bridge of his nose, hot at first but quickly turned cold by the time it dripped to his chin. And he sat on the large rocks that made up the shore below, hugging his knees to his chest, and hoping, maybe, that Lilly would come to dance for him again today.


End file.
